


On A Whim

by triumphforks



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 07:19:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16908597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: Sakuma takes Kazemaru on an impulse trip to Italy.





	On A Whim

It had started with a single statement of shock.

_“You’ve never been to Italy?”_

They’d been walking down the street, and he’d commented on a tourism ad, and that had been that. Sakuma had stopped, and looked at him with complete shock, and the minute they got home he was on the phone arranging flights. “ _I don’t really need to go-”,_ he’d said, only to be brushed back with a “ _No, you really should!”._ “ _It was just a mindless comment-”,_ he’d said, only to be waved back with a “ _We have the time, why not?”._

It had been surreal. The whole thing was organised in a matter of days, and he’d barely managed to get a word in. Before he knew it they had packed, and were at the airport, and then checking in (first class - he’d rolled his eyes, but wasn’t about to turn it down). Then they’d been in the sky, and while he’d enjoyed the amenities he’d quietly noted with some satisfaction that even in all this luxury, Sakuma seemed unable to properly sleep. Just as quickly as they’d taken off came the landing; getting through the airport at the other end as fast as circumstances would allow (“How’d you sleep, babe?” “I want to die.”). After all that it shouldn’t have been a surprise that there were people waiting for them at the other side of the gates, people who took their luggage without any prompting, but it still felt… wrong, somehow.

At least the car was fairly normal. Fancier than what he was used to, but a car was a car. They got in, and got moving, and Sakuma was asleep on his shoulder before they’d even left the city limits. But he stayed awake; watching the change from urban to country, from the mish-mash of streets and houses so starkly different to the grey boxes of Tokyo, easing out in to rolling hills dotted with the occasional stone farmstead, overlooking it all. He marveled at the mountains - stark stone, the likes of which he’d never seen - and felt consumed by all the _space_ , space that rippled and undulated and somehow managed to be both wild and cultivated, tamed and yet beyond taming. He’d thought he knew what ‘country’ meant - he’d seen the impossibly long stretches of rice fields when he’d travelled, and had even made note of how cozy the small towns had seemed, passing through the ever-green Japanese mountains. But this was something else.

They had left the airport in the early morning, but didn’t arrive at their destination until late afternoon. He himself had dozed off, and only woke when he could feel the car beginning to slow, and the road turn from smooth to irritatingly bumpy. It seemed like they’d arrived: turning off the gravel road in to a slightly smoother paved drive lined with bush that had the quality of highly maintained wilderness. Through a high gate set in to a sandstone wall, and gently around the curve of a hill. He could see paddocks, and what looked like vineyards, and more hills, culminating with the sight of an ancient town sprawled across a particularly large one. It wasn’t until the final turn that the house came in to view. He’d never seen a place so large - and even once he’d realised it wasn’t one building, but several, he still couldn’t believe the size of the main building. All this? Just for the two of them?

 The car pulled up to the front of the villa, where there were more people waiting for them (ah, of course, not just the two of them - but a place this size could hold far more!). More fussing, this time about luggage and rooming and all other kinds of nonsense best left to those who knew how to deal with it (Sakuma had by now grudgingly accepted the fact that he had to be awake, but seemed to gain a second wind and new life on greeting the housekeepers- all of whom he met with warm familiarity). Instead he took himself on a brief walk - just around the corner - between the main house and the closest outlying building, taking in glimpses of carefully maintained gardens, a terrace, fountains, an archway filled with a splash of green, the hints of a courtyard… so many nooks, so many corners, and all of it bounded by _space_. There wasn’t another house in sight, save for the ones in the distant hilltop town.

 He soon made his way back to the front of the house. The car was gone, along with all the miscellaneous housekeepers (he really should find out their names). Sakuma was waiting by the front steps, and smiled so sweetly when their eyes met. He hurried over, Sakuma reaching out to take his hand has he got close and leading the way in to the house.

 “What do you think?” The words came with an inquiring look, curious, and hopeful.

“What am I supposed to think?”, he replied jokingly. But there was a truth to it - what _was_ he supposed to think? He was still taking it all in - the interior was stark and white and modern, compared to the rustic exterior, all wide spaces and sparse furnishings, so very different to the compact lifestyle he was used to.

“I’d hope that you like it.”

“It’s amazing.” He let go, so he could walk around freely. The first room that caught his eye was a living space, but the back wall of it… wasn’t. He’d expected more stone broken up by windows, but instead the space seamlessly transitioned to a columned patio, and then further opened out to a terrace with views of the surrounding countryside and the faraway town.

“I can’t believe you own this place,” he said, almost transfixed. Sakuma laughed.

“It’s not _mine_.”

“That’s such a rich person thing to say,” he teased, and got a kick in the shin for his efforts.

“It’s not, though. It’s my parents, and then after them it’ll be my brother’s. So let’s enjoy it while we can.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before Sakuma decided to head up to bed early, loudly complaining that planes were impossible and no one should have to suffer through their existence. He’d stopped himself from making some snarky comment in return, and instead wished him good night. Shortly after, the sun decided to rest, too; and the whole place was bathed in sunset’s burning light. Somehow, it became even more enchanting. And… well, it was probably rude, but there was no one around, so he took it upon himself to sneak some photos of it all immaculate, before it got the chance to feel a bit more lived in. He explored his way through the main house until ending up back in that first large room, where he paused, head bowed, sorting through the photos he’d nabbed on his phone. Was this place even real? Surely he was drea-

“Sir?”

He jumped. Turned. And behind him was an older man, immaculately dressed, but with a sour air to him.

“Y-yes?”  
“Are you well?” Was it his imagination, or was that tone judging?   
“Yes..?” Was that the right thing to say? It caused the man to pause, at least, although he didn’t like the way his expression shifted.

“Perhaps Sir would enjoy spending some time outside?” The man punctuated his words with a long stare, before leaving before hearing a reply. He stood for a moment, stunned, before deciding it was probably best to take that advice.

The air outside was pleasant, and the sunset mesmerising. There were some seats set, towards the edge of the terrace, and he took one of them, leaning back and resting his feet against the terrace wall. And, strangely, he felt for the first time that he could actually relax. He sat there a moment, simply admiring the view. And then when said view failed to change all that much, he pulled out his phone once more and started sorting through all the messages he’d missed. Excited well-wishes, from Endou ( _How is it? Have fun!_ ). A perfectly ordered list of holidaying suggestions, from Kidou (with a slight scolding for not doing any proper planning of his own). Miscellaneous notes ranging from slight jealousy to socially mandated interest, from others. But there was one person he knew would understand the feeling he had brewing away inside. The feeling that, in the face of awe and splendour, couldn’t help but snark.

_> Can you believe this?_

He sent the message with a few of the photos, ending with one of the view from his current seat.

> _What the fuck._

Fudou Akio - eloquent as always. He started to type up a reply when he jumped, again, at the sound of a soft _chink_ of glass against stone. He looked at the sound’s source - a wine glass, filled with red, set on a small table next to his seat - and then up at the hand that still held it, following the arm to the figure and face of that disgruntled man.

“Some wine for you, Sir.” His words were ice.

“T-thank you,” he managed, and the man left once more. He watched, until a buzz from his phone took his attention back.

 > _And they wonder why we call them out of touch._

> _You know he acted like all of this was no big deal?_ _  
_ > _Typical. Don’t you dare turn in to one of them._

He held back a laugh, regaining his composure with a sip of the wine (and marveled at the flavour - deep, and bold), before leaning back and continuing the conversation.

> _Not a chance. I think the butler hates me._

> _There’s a butler? Of course there’s a fucking butler._

The messages kept on going back and forth, a catharsis for all the thoughts that would only cause a fight if he said them aloud, until eventually dying out. By that time the sun had truly set, and the last of its colours were bleeding from the horizon and giving way to the deepest night. He leaned further back in his seat, stretching back and watching the stars blink in to life. Stars - more than he’d ever seen. A night sky so inky black, and filled with stars, a sight he thought had only existed in fiction.

He stayed there, transfixed, until his eyes began to grow heavy. He tried to stave off the urge to rest them, knowing that doing so would have him fall asleep, before deciding the risk was too great. It was time to head back inside, and see what wonders tomorrow would bring.

 

* * *

 

The next morning he was woken earlier than he would have liked (and while Sakuma insisted he’d been sleeping long enough, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it). After some mild grumbling, pulling on of (magically already pressed) clothes, and a rather painful minute or so of Sakuma trying to tame his uncooperative hair, he found himself ushered out the door and back in to the car. Thankfully it wasn’t for long - their goal for the day seemed to be the nearby hilltop town.

The town itself was unexpectedly imposing. They left the car at its gate, where he found himself already in awe of the structure and its craftsmanship. It stood there, tall and golden in the direct sun, but moving underneath was like being plunged in to sudden darkness. Cold, all consuming darkness. And that back-and-forth experience followed him as he was led about the small town, marvelling at the open spaces of the piazzas (“Is there a market going on over there?” “Yeah, but we’ll see it later,”) only to be suddenly funnelled in to narrow, almost claustrophobic alleyways, with the stone buildings on either side rising so close and so high it was hard to believe that the town was surrounded by such open, empty countryside.

But after a while, he began to notice something else. _He_ had been preoccupied with the place, trying to take it all in - and initially, Sakuma had been eagerly helping with that, pointing out particular interesting facades or telling some kind of story from his childhood, and all the times he’d been to this place before. But after a while that had fallen off, and he’d gotten quiet, and it was with that silence that he noticed Sakuma seemed to be looking less at their surroundings and more studying him. Not in a flattering way - but in one that set off some kind of warning, some signal inside that was telling him something was off.

He waited until their current street was free of others and subtly moved closer, reaching out to brush his fingers up against Sakuma’s palm, and leaning in to speak softly in his ear.

“You OK?”

“Ah-” They had made eye contact, for the briefest of moments, before Sakuma looked down and away. That was all the answer he needed. Or so he thought - because in an instant Sakuma was looking back at him, and while there was concern in his expression it was somehow still bright. “Are you having fun?”

So earnest! He had to stifle a laugh - that gnawing feeling of dread had set him up to expect something that wasn’t there, and it had got the best of him.

“I am!”

“Good.” A shared smile, and then back to being quietly ushered around the town; for a few moments, anyway.

“I wanted to do something for you,” Sakuma started again suddenly. “While I can, you know? Or as much as I can. Because I love you.” He blushed, instantly. Sakuma said it all so casually! Like he was making some comment on the weather, and not saying something that made his heart leap. He struggled to find the words to reply - could feel his face burning hot, and wasn’t at all certain his voice would hold steady even if he did somehow work out what to say.

“But why so suddenly?” He’d dodged it, and his voice was louder than he intended, but it didn’t seem to matter. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying it, but all of this? Just from one comment? There wasn’t any need to rush.” The more he spoke the more he managed to calm down, until eventually, he felt confident he was back to his normal self. His normal self… with a bit of an extra joyous kick.

“You know none of what got us here is mine. It’s just… taking advantage of what I have access to.” He nodded - he didn’t have to understand the full workings of these elite families to get that much. “But I think I want to stop that. The taking advantage of it, I mean.” Still Sakuma’s voice was light, casual - but those words sat heavy, and it was enough to cause him to frown.

“What do you mean?” He’d slowed to a stop, but Sakuma tugged at his sleeve, pulling him onwards.

“I don’t have much for myself, you know? Well, I have you-” that line came with the flash of a smile “-and I want to start being able to look after what I have on my own terms. But I’m not much. A middle school soccer coach? _Assistant_ coach? I can’t get you trips to Italy on my own. So think of this as a goodbye trip, to all the money.” He laughed - he couldn’t help himself - and Sakuma playfully hit at him in retaliation. “Shut it! I know what you’re thinking. I know you bitch about all this with Fudou. You could be a bit supportive.”

“I’m sorry!” He darted in quick, for a kiss on the cheek, before being lightly pushed away.

They kept walking - up, and onwards, reaching the town’s peak, marked by a wide open space and a tall, multi-spired church. He spent some time exploring it, eventually leaving the cool darkness of its interior to continue the day’s adventure. He paused, just outside the entrance - he’d spotted Sakuma chatting to what seemed to be one of the local townspeople, and took a moment to smile to himself. He looked so comfortable, so relaxed, and as the person he’d been speaking to went to move on with their day Sakuma looked up, spotted him, smiled and waved him to come down. And he scolded himself, just a little, because he knew he didn’t appreciate Sakuma as much as he should.

The return down the maze of the hilltop town was somehow more strenuous than the walk up. Keeping balance on the downward incline, with the uneven cobbles and unexpected paths themselves keeping all his attention captive. It was only when they neared the base of the town, and the streets began to even themselves out, that he remembered something that had nagged at him before.

“What did you mean, you’re only assistant coach? I thought you’d go back to being head coach now that all the Fifth nonsense is over and Kidou leaves.”

“Ah.” For the first time, there seemed to be genuine worry to Sakuma’s voice. “I think... he’s decided to stay.” Yep - definitely a tension there. And things began to fall a little in to place. Sakuma wasn’t making eye contact now - whether he was genuinely distracted, looking for the right way to turn, or whether it was because of something else, he couldn’t quite tell. But whatever it was it left him feeling tense. “It’s fine,” Sakuma continued, almost as though he could read his mind. _It’s not fine,_ he knew, because while he might not be the best boyfriend, he knew enough to be able to notice when the other was upset. “It’s Teikoku and Kidou. You can’t get between that. And anyway,” his voice seemed to brighten, and he definitively picked a path for them to head down. “I’m used to being second. That’s- it’s why I want to try on my own. I know it’s cliche, isn’t it? Rich kid wants to go off on his own, acting like he doesn’t have his family to fall back on the minute it gets tough. But it’s not like that.” At the end there, his voice got darker again. He knew why.

“I get it,” he said, and while this time Sakuma’s smile seemed weaker, it had an underlying trust there, something he knew was reserved just for him.

It wasn’t much longer before they made it back to that first piazza, suddenly exiting the warren of alleys to be thrown in to the midst of what seemed to be a farmer’s market. Sounds, smells, produce - everywhere. Before he had been curious, but now he was overwhelmed, and it seemed Sakuma had noticed. He ferried him through and insisted he go wait in the open space by the town gate, insisted he wouldn’t be long. He took the exit without hesitation, and while waiting (and feeling very out of place, suddenly highly aware that he didn’t speak a single word of Italian) was long, it felt like nothing once it was over, and Sakuma was rushing back towards him, arms full of bags carrying what he could only imagine were the choicest of ingredients.

“This is something I can do for you,” he said as he approached.

“And I can’t wait,” he replied, moving to take some of the bags. And with that the day’s exploration seemed to be done - heading out the gate, out to where the car was still waiting, with the promise of something delicious in his future.


End file.
